Maurice was off like a shot. As he rounded the house on a lope he ran into Billy, coming from the opposite direction. Billy's cotton blouse was bulging. In one hand he carried the smoking bake-pan, in the other a fat cookie deeply scalloped on one side.,
"Why, yes," Frank answered, somewhat puzzled. "He lived next farm to me.",
"And you mean to tell me that she hatches the egg laid by the mean, bad black bird, Billy?".
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